Mass Effect: Earthborn
by melchiar243
Summary: Starting in the year 2169, the story centers on the youth of Katherine Shepard. It is because of her natural skill with a sniper rifle, that 15 year old Shepard is such a valued member of the 10th Street Reds gang and their go-to girl when they need someone taken out with precision. However when she kills a low-time gunrunner, she finds herself marked for death by the Blue Suns.
1. Chapter 01 Knowledge is Power

Chapter #01

Knowledge is Power

9.36 a.m., September 13th, 2169

Laurence Harris Public High School, New York City.

Advanced Computer Technology. Boring. Understandable but boring.

It was my first year of high school, and so far, it was good. Of course I didn't know many of my classmates outside of school since I had been running with the 10th Street Reds since I was 12. Back then, they just wanted some young pretty face that could easily be used as a courier. That was the old days, before they realized my potential.

I was lucky though, because I had one of those minds that remembers most things, and understands them. Many of the other kids envied me and I could see why. But just because I could understand subjects like ACT didn't mean they weren't boring.

Advanced Computer Technology was one of the subjects that belonged under the umbrella program called Advanced Technical Subjects that was taught at most schools. After scoring off the charts at some test during the start of the school year, it was decided by some asshole that not only was I eligible to take _all_ of the subjects offered by the program, but I was obligated to. Fucker.

This particular day, I didn't feel like listening, so while my omni-tool was recording everything that was said, I also had it play songs through my ear-piece. Most people were unaware of the awesome music that was made in the early 21st century. Today's choice was some guys called Alien Ant Farm with a song called Smooth Criminal.

So while the song was playing in my ears, Mr. Cast was yapping away. The first thing I noticed about the class, was when Cast went to the interactive blackboard and erased the words 'The Matrixes of Alien Computer Systems' and all the different algorithms he had written while talking about it, and then wrote the words 'Combat applications of computer sciences'. That sentence made me listen, so I turned off the music on my omni-tool and took out the ear-piece.

"Now, dear children, I have arranged for a very special guest speaker and a former student of mine to talk to you today." He turned to the door where there was an Alliance Marine standing in full dress uniform. "Come on in David."

The blue uniform looked good on him, but you could still tell that he wasn't a high ranking officer: his muscles were too defined for him to be a paper-pusher.

He took off his hat to reveal the traditional jarhead haircut. "I am Lieutenant David Raynes of the 103rd Marine Division, and I am a computer nerd" the Lieutenant said.

Cast, who was sitting on his desk, continued while the marine was standing straight. "The good Lieutenant here is with the special unit called Team Zeta."

It became clear that the two of them had practiced this speech.

"I am a combat engineer, and the Alliance Navy Field Manuel classifies me as an Infiltrator. My notable skills include long-range elimination and hacking." He was a sniper, how interesting.

"David's team is nicknamed the Bridge Burners" Mr. Cast told us. "Can any of you guess, based on the information you have so far, what they specialize in?"

I peered curiously at the other students: they all looked like they were searching through every little corner of their brain for the answer.

Finally, I raised my hand. "Yes, Shepard?"

"Sabotage" I answered. "And I would guess that since your combat engineers, your sabotage focuses on enemy structures?"

The Lieutenant lifted an eyebrow and let a slight smile pass. "Correct, Miss Shepard."

The other students were looking at me. Some shocked, others were jealous. Most of them had wanted to take this subject. Some of them had even worked hard to qualify for it, some even harder to qualify for the entire umbrella program. They hated me for not even trying.

At the end of the class, I had learned a lot about ways to use computer sciences in combat. Most of them involved hacking, like making a weapon overheat, or infect your opponents armors VI (Virtual Intelligence) with viruses.

When the bell rung, everyone was trying to get out of the classroom first, but like always, I just packed up my things quietly so I wouldn't be caught in the rush in the hallway.

Though I hadn't much to pack, I still had a backpack with a few datapads in it.

As I was getting ready to walk out of the door, the Lieutenant stopped me. "Katherine, is it?"

"Shepard" I simply answered. There weren't a lot of people who called me by my first name, and those who did, knew me as Kate, not Katherine.

"Have you thought about what to do after you graduate high school, 'Shepard'?" he asked.

"Not really."

He nodded, and licked his lips once. "Do you like advanced computer technology?"

I shrugged while trying to figure out why he was so interested. "It's a little boring" I said.

"Mr. Cast tells me that you excel at it," he said while glancing at Cast who was also packing his things. "In fact, he says that you excel at all the Advanced Technical Subjects."

"I guess."

"You guess?" he said with a sarcastic tone. "Did you know that less than 2% of all the people who take the ATS test has a perfect score?" the Lieutenant asked, referring to the test I took at the start of the school year.

"That doesn't make it less boring" I said with a challenging tone as I crossed my arms.

This was the point where Mr. Cast interrupted. "Listen Shepard, the brain trust of your generation isn't likely to seek employment in the Alliance, even though they need smart people like you."

I shifted my weight to the other foot. I was frustrated now. How could they think that I was Alliance material?

"Listen, I excel at this subject for the same reason that I find it boring: it's easy."

"Which is why you need something to challenge you, and if you were a marine, you would get that challenge every day."

I sighed.

"Shepard, when we took that IQ test last month, you know what yours said?"

I sighed again. "No, Mr. Cast. What did it say?"

"Inconclusive. Your IQ can't even be measured by a standard test."

The Lieutenant quickly started to talk before I could get a word in. "You're the kind of person that could end up with an N5 degree someday."

I considered that for a second. N. The premier Special Forces of the Systems Alliance. Hell, the premier Special Forces of Earth! According to the extranet, it was an honor just being qualified for N-School, even though the first course was so harsh that it had an 80% drop-out rate.

I had gone off in my own head while the teacher and the marine were still trying to talk me into this.

"Stop!" I finally said as I left my head. "Even though I am flattered that you think so highly of me, both of you, there is no way in hell that I am going to get into the Alliance." I picked up my messengers bag and went towards the door. I turned my head towards the two men and said "Any recruiter is going to look at my record once and reject me."

As I went out into the hallway, I wondered if I had ruined my chances at a life.

The first time I had been arrested was when I was doing my initiation for the 10th Street Reds. Aggravated assault. I got six months in juvenile hall for that.

Second time was for destruction and vandalism of military property. That one had been fun. A couple of friends and I had spent an entire night with drinking and spray painting graffiti on the nearby Alliance Recruitment Center. I had been very proud of a giant Anarchy symbol that I had painted on the sign. Unfortunately, we hadn't noticed the video cameras. I got two months for that.

As I walked out of the classroom and into the crowded hallway, I remembered some of the things that the good Lieutenant had said. Even though the class ended on a sour note, he gave me a lot of information that I could use for more… Devious purposes.


	2. Chapter 02 And Power Corrupts

Chapter #02

And Power Corrupts

2.59 p.m., September 13th, 2169

Brooklyn Rooftops, New York City.

The rooftops weren't tall in this region. Even though it was 2169, there were still urban areas that weren't filled with skyscrapers, Brooklyn for example.

I was running over the rooftops, using the environment to bring me forward. A three feet tall wall that separated two rooftops wasn't an obstacle, not if I just ran towards the side of the other building and placed my foot on that wall and jumped over the small one. There was a gap before the next building's rooftop, but that wasn't a problem since there was a horizontal pipe of some sort that was hanging over my head right before the gap, so I just jumped up and swung myself off the pipe to the next building without sacrificing my momentum.

There were some old videos on the extranet where the title called this parkour. I didn't care what it was called, I just knew I liked it; running on the rooftops like this made me feel alive. I could smell the fresh air and feel the cold wind as it blew through my short red hair. It was like living on the edge of the world.

I was almost where I needed to be.

An air vent was covering the most of the next rooftop. It was too large to jump over, even with a wallrun, but it was so far off the ground that I could glide under it. So I already knew what I was going to do when I landed; utilizing my momentum, I let myself hit the ground while still keeping my speed, I then slid under the vent and quickly got on my feet again while still in a running speed.

I was here now.

A quick look over the edge of the building I was standing on now let me know that I was five stories up. I looked around and saw the building's roof access door. Like it was arranged, a small brick had left the door open, so I quickly went in.

The apartment I was looking for was 5-12 which meant that it was basically apartment number 12 on the fifth floor.

The building was at least a hundred years old, but still standing, partially thanks to a few renovations, but you could still see the original wooden floor and the red brick walls.

I quickly found the metal door with the brass numbers 5-12 screwed onto it.

Before going in, I reached for the heavy pistol I had in the back of my pants. A M-77 Paladin. A durable weapon originally designed by law enforcement. It was made for undercover cops who needed a weapon that was easily concealed yet could pack a punch. It was the same reason for why I liked it and never went anywhere without it. I even designed a VI program for my omni-tool that could fool the schools metal detectors.

The small yet powerful gun felt right in my right hand, so I opened the door to apartment 5-12 and went in.

Inside there were five guys and they immediately started pointing their weapons at me. Three of them were wielding classic Predator heavy pistols, one had a Tempest submachine gun and the last had a Katana shotgun.

"Who da fuck are you?" said one of them, a black guy with the Tempest. He had a red bandana on his head, a tight t-shirt that showed off his muscles and brown cargo pants.

"The Ice Queen" I immediately said.

They looked at each other like they were about to burst with laughter.

"You?"

"U-huh."

The guy with the submachine gun walked over to me. "Where's yar tat?" he asked while still pointing the deadly gun that could fill me with 150 bullets in 10 seconds, at me.

While still pointing my Paladin at the leader, I pulled up the left side of my tank top to reveal the Reds' insignia, tattooed on my left side.

He then smiled and pulled away the Tempest. "Alright, it's cool yall. This gal actually is da Ice Queen."

"It's Shepard" I said as they all lowered their weapons.

"Just Shepard?" the leader asked while shaking my hand.

"Just Shepard. And you are?"

"Jake Two-Two" he said.

I walked over to the window that faced the intersection while I heard the others talk about me.

"Daymn! Did you see dat ass?"

"If she's da Shepard, I wouldn't mind spending some time with her in the hay."

"Alright fellas, relax" Jake said.

I turned back towards the room and the Reds. "Which one of you boys wanna play lookout?" I asked while smiling.

It was decided that one of the guys named Sammy would be lookout. I had shown him a picture of the guy I was looking for: Kenny Stings, a rival from the Razors. Stings was the Razors' main weapons supplier. He had a pretty good deal going with the Blue Suns: every once in a while, the Alliance would send a weapons shipment out to the colonies in the Skyllian Verge. When that happened, the Blue Suns would raid the shipment, and a part of that shipment would go to the Razors. The bad thing for the Razors was that Stings was the only guy that had the contact to the Suns.

So if Stings get a bullet in his head, the Razors don't get any more guns. No new guns mean that the Reds would have an easier time making a power play against the Razors.

I put the bag I had brought on the dining table in the old apartment. I could hear their surprise when I unzipped the bag and revealed my M-97 Viper sniper rifle.

"Yo, where did you get hardware like dat girl?" Jake asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I asked and cracked a smile.

The rifle was from a weapons container that was originally supposed to ship out to a marine training camp off-world, but due to a glitch in the system, the containers ID disappeared from the records. And since it was lost in transit, it would've been irresponsible of the 10th Street Reds _not_ to raid it for everything that was in it. On the inside, we found 100 standard issue M-8 Avenger assault rifles, same amount of Predators and M-4 Shurikan submachine guns, 50 Katana shotguns, 10 Viper sniper rifles and 100 standard issue Alliance Marine Onyx armor.

According to the manifest, the sniper rifles were intended for a team of scout snipers. I would call it a windfall: those marksmen would wait a week for a different shipment and I got a Viper.

I checked everything about the rifle: barrel, trigger, scope, internal targeting computer, everything. Like always, it was in pristine condition, because I kept it that way.

"Alright Sammy, move aside."

"Sure thing girl…" he said with a slurred voice. I wasn't sure if he was ogling me or the Viper. Personally, I would be looking at the gun, but I doubted he was as interested in sniper rifles as I was.

After attaching a bipod to the rifle, I placed it in the window and looked down the street. About 200 yards down the street there was an intersection, and on the corner there was a bar, a bar that was frequented by Kenny Stings.

I took a couple of deep breaths, let myself settle in to this position, I let myself be comfortable with the Viper. Then I activated my omni-tool and called the number that the boss had given me. Supposedly, whomever I was calling, was tailing Stings.

"Yea, hello? Who's this?" I heard someone on the other side of the line, say He sounded jumpy.

"This is the Ice Queen. Who are you?"

"It was about time! He's about to leave."

"So he is inside the bar?" I curiously asked.

"Yea, he is just finishing his drink now" Finch said. "And he is walking towards the door. He is outside in 3, 2, 1 and now."

After Finch had counted down, I saw Kenny Stings get out. Just as on his picture: Caucasian, black hair, blue eyes, dressed in a cheap suit since he was the one who dealt with some of the 'white collar' activities of the Razors.

The one peculiar thing about this man was that he was security conscious. Not enough to hire bodyguards, but enough to have a kinetic barrier running at all time. That was the only thing that had stopped me from killing him before today; my Viper wasn't strong enough to penetrate the barrier and kill him in one shot, and even though the Viper was semi-automatic, the first shot would cause people around him (and himself) to scatter so I couldn't take a second shot.

In my mind, I sent a small thank you to the good Lieutenant Raynes of the 103rd Marine Division. He taught us about an ability that was popularly named 'Overload' where you hack the kinetic barrier so that it (obviously) overloads. The shield would recharge after a minute or so, but that minute was all I needed.

Unfortunately for me, the street was crowded, so I would have to be careful with my shot. I took deep and calming breathes, I did my best to slow down my heart rate, even though the information in the scope said that it already was around 55 BPM.

"Yellow," he moved through the crowd, "Yellow," he was still not completely free of the crowd, "Red," he moved behind a couple that was holding hands, "Red, get clear you son of a bitch," he was moving towards the traffic lights. As he stood there, waiting for it to be green, he was completely exposed, "Green."

First, I made my omni-tool use the Overload ability, and then, without hesitation, I squeezed the trigger of the Viper, and in the exact moment that the bullet left the barrel and the rifle recoiled back into my right shoulder, I remembered the first time that I had fired this weapon, and how it felt like the recoil had nearly shattered my shoulder because I wasn't prepared for it.

The flashback had barely begun before it ended, and I saw how the bullet hit Kenny Stings' head and made the blood spatter out on the window of the car that was waiting right next to him.

Panic.

First, one women was screaming, and then everyone was. As I packed my rifle down, I saw how over a 100 people scattered in the streets, looking for cover from additional shots that would never be fired.

I put the Viper back into the bag and put it back over my shoulder.

"It was a pleasure meeting you gentlemen" I said and then left apartment 5-12.

Once outside, I finally let my heart speed up, I let myself feel the rush when the adrenalin made my blood rush from my heart and into my legs, my arms, my feet, my hands and my head. It was amazing.

As quickly as I could, I ran towards the rooftop where I entered the building. While I still had the high, I started to run and I left the building with apartment 5-12 the same way I got to it.


	3. Chapter 03 After Heaven Comes Hell

Chapter #03

After Heaven Comes Hell

8.12 p.m., September 13th, 2169

Little Grace Orphanage, New York City.

One last moan escaped Rachel's mouth before her orgasm stopped. "That… Was amazing!" she let me know. I laughed and smiled at her, kissing her again.

Rachel was my roommate at Little Grace Orphanage, the place where I had lived since my mother disappeared from the hospital where I was born. That night, she had only left a note that said: _Her name is Katherine Shepard_.

I looked up at the note for a second; I had hung it on the wall.

For a second I contemplated everything I knew, and everything I didn't know, about my mother. Was her name Shepard too? Or did she just want me to have that name?

Then I turned back to reality, and to Rachel. She was lying next to me in my small bed, only with a wrinkled cover to hide her sweaty and naked beauty; her long chestnut hair fell perfectly down her shoulders and framed her heart shaped face. I could fall head first into her brown eyes and be lost for hours.

I had come to terms with my sexuality a long time ago: gender didn't matter to me, as long as there was attraction. Rachel however learned that she was a lesbian when we had started dating. Our relationship hadn't lasted though, so we remained friends. But occasionally, we missed the 'company' of others.

Whenever I that moment coincided with a day where I had gotten an adrenaline rush, we would fuck like bunnies.

I ran a finger along her tan skin. She was still shivering. I smiled again.

She finally caught her breath and turned towards me. "What got you in this mood?"

"You don't wanna know." Rachel knew I was with the 10th Street Reds, but she didn't care, as long as she didn't know what I did.

"Well, I met someone today" she said while smiling.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Weird way to celebrate…"

She started laughing. "Well, I don't know if she likes me or if she is even… You know…"

"Gay?" I asked while smiling. I smiled as a reflex. I didn't know how I felt about that since we were just friends. With benefits. "Well, why didn't you tell me at school?"

"I would've, but you disappeared after your last period."

I quickly deflected away from that comment. "So, who is she?"

We were interrupted by the bell that was ringing out in the hallway. When the old bell rang, it meant that there was either breakfast or dinner.

We both got out of my bed and stood up in the small room and got into some quick clothes.

"Don't stop on my account" I said as we stepped out into the hallway where all the other children were walking towards the dining hall.

"Well, her name is Sabrina" she said as she blushed.

"Sabrina who?"

"Collins. Sabrina Collins."

I remembered the name. "Black hair? Dark eyes?"

"With a cute little nose?" Rachel asked, suddenly very excited.

"Yup. I have late 20th century literature with her" I said and smiled at my roommate.

Most of the way towards the dining hall, and during the dinner, she either talked or asked me about Sabrina Collins, the dark haired girl with the cute nose who spent most of 20th century lit to make doodles on her datapad. I quickly decided that I was fine with Rachel having a crush, because her mood was contagious, so I couldn't help but smile while we sat at the long metal tables in the dining hall, eating some kind of stew that smelled like overcooked cabbage.

My smile, however, disappeared from my face when Mrs. Kerch stood up at the rostrum. She came from money, yet she had chosen to be the matron of an orphanage; a political maneuver by her father. She had always wanted to love children, and when her father donated a large sum of money to the city, to build an orphanage, he got her to be in charge.

"Can I please have your attention, children?" she asked in her ridiculously sweet voice.

Almost no one listened the first time; it was only after she turned up the volume of the microphone, that everyone turned their heads towards her.

"Thank you. Now, I have some sad news children" she said with a dramatically said voice. "Because of a spike in the number of you that tested positive in last month's drug test, I have been authorized to conduct random searches of your rooms." There was an immediate booing from everyone there.

"I am sorry children! But you brought this on yourself!" she nearly yelled into the microphone to drown out the booing. She then walked back through the door she came in through.

_Fuck!_ I thought to myself. If they ever searched me and Rachel's room, they would look into my wardrobe, and they would find a large black bag that could be slung over my shoulder, and inside that bag, they would find an M-97 Viper sniper rifle and then I would be fucked, screwed, on the shitter, out on deep waters. I would be in hell.


	4. Chapter 04 The Solution

Chapter #04

The Solution

1.39 p.m., September 14th, 2169

Hansen & Co. Storage, New York City.

The solution turned out to be simple.

I had initially thought about hollowing out a part of the wall in my room behind the wardrobe, but that would've taken too long and there was too many ways that someone could discover it before I was finished or while I was working on it.

After that, I thought about stashing the Viper in one of the 10th Street Reds' 'safe houses', but then I remembered that most were a bunch of kleptos that I wouldn't trust with a pair of shoes.

My school locker was obviously a no-go since I would have to go to the school every time I needed it.

Then an obvious solution hit me: a storage unit. Guaranteed privacy and if the guaranteed privacy thing turned out to be untrue, there were bound to be someone who had stored worse shit than me.

That was the reason for why I was here. Hansen & Co. Storage was a local business that was owned by Henry Hansen and his son Thomas Hansen. An old 10 story building that wasn't worth much because of its location, and for the same reason, no one wanted to use it for office space. So the Hansens bought the building, renovated it and turned it into storage units.

I took a look around the lobby as I walked in: no windows and no security cameras, in other words it was a 'don't as don't tell' kind of place.

There wasn't much to the place. There was one front desk with and there was a door behind it that probably leads into the back, and finally there was an elevator next to the desk.

Behind the desk at the time, was some guy in his 20s who was wearing typical blue-collar clothes.

He looked up from his datapad once, then looked back into it and uttered a very well-rehearsed sales speech: "Welcome to Hansen & Co. Storage, we offer pristine storage units for pristine prices." He then cast a second look at me and put his datapad down.

"What kind of services do you provide here?" I asked.

"Well, our units are constantly ventilated and kept at room temperature. The dimensions are four by six yards with a height of four yards" he said while giving me the elevator look, and judging from his expression, he liked what he saw. I let a small smile and a little blush stand out as I stroked some hair behind my ear.

"How much do they cost?" I asked.

"Depends on what you're looking for; something long- or short term?"

"Long term" I answered and leaned in over the counter. The name-tag said Charlie, and as I looked over him again, I realized that he wasn't bad looking.

"Well, then we have a payment plan that covers six months at a time and costs 500 credits per six months."

"Sounds perfect. Can I see one?" I asked while stretching my arms in front of me so my cleavage was revealed to him.

"Sure, just this way Miss" he said as he walked over to the elevator and swiped an access panel with his omni-tool.

"Are there other security measures than that access panel?" I asked while we rode the elevator to the fourth floor.

He was well over a head taller than me, so he stared down at me while answering. "While there are no security cameras in the lobby, there are cameras on every floor. Other than that, there is no security, though you are welcome to put up security measures in the unit if you so desire."

As we reached the fourth floor, we quickly walked to an empty unit. The door was red and the only things that were on the inside were two lamps, a light switch and a metal table.

As I walked around the room, Charlie was leaning up against the wall.

"Perhaps I should mention that we are required to keep a record of who rents our units, so you will need to show me some photo ID and you need to be over 18" he said with a little smile, knowing full well that I came here so I wouldn't have to show ID, and so age wouldn't be an issue.

I went to sit on the table. "Is that necessary?" I asked while smiling again, glad that I had put on a red lipstick from the morning.

"I'm afraid so Miss" Charlie said with smugness about him as he walked towards me.

"Are you sure that we can't come to some agreement, Charlie?" I asked and smiled again. He was now only a foot away from me.

His hand reached for my face, and very softly, he caressed my upper lip with his thumb. "You have very pretty lips."

I had seen this coming from a mile away, so I lifted one eyebrow, smiled and slowly went down on my knees before him.

An hour later, both Charlie and I had a smile on our lips as I walked out of Hansen & Co. Storage with the security key for the elevator and for storage unit 425.


	5. Chapter 05 It Starts With an Email

Chapter #05

It Starts With an Email

10.22 a.m., November 1st, 2169

The 'Graffiti Wall' in Harlem, New York City.

The artwork was amazing right here. Literally thousands of different artists had left their mark, however small or big, on this wall. The 'vandalized' area of the wall was about 200 yards wide and went at _least_ as far vertically.

Even though it would count as vandalism, the 'Graffiti Wall' in Harlem had become quite famous. So much so that there was an entire site on the extranet devoted to it, and it was one of the minor tourist attractions on Manhattan.

We were all here, the entire gang. This was where we would usually hang out; on the staircase that lead down to the open space where the wall was located.

As I was baking in the sun, I looked down towards the wall where Rachel and Sabrina were had broken off from the group with some spray cans. They had been going out for almost a month now. They had bonded over their artistic side, since they both liked, and were very talented at, drawing, painting and 'vandalizing'.

They looked cute as they were down there, spraying some color that had yet to take the shape of anything specific.

I sighed again for the third time in an hour. It was the heat. The summer had stretched quite a bit longer than usual, so despite the fact it was November, my omni-tool told me that it was 68°F. Those who actually had a jacket had just thrown it down on the ground.

"I'm bored!" Mark suddenly proclaimed. I looked up. He was sitting a couple of steps further up, wearing a wife-beater and some baggy pants.

"So think of something" Sasha said. She was the beautiful girl of the group, the Mary Sue of the group. That was my conclusion when we had a theme in class about the different archetypes of fiction. Basically, there were no obvious flaws about Sasha.

She was beautiful, clever, athletic, a social butterfly and she was leaning up against her boyfriend: Eric.

"He needs to have a brain to do that" Eric said while looking directly into the sun with his eyes shielded behind his stylish sunglasses.

"Yea? Well screw you Eric" Mark countered. It's not that Mark was dumb, he was just more brawn than brain and he had a habit of doing things before thinking them through.

At that moment, Danny came back. He was almost Eric's polar opposite: more brain than brawn, but like Mark, he had a problem with thinking. At least when it came to smart mouthing bullies. I couldn't count on all my fingers and toes how many times I had saved him from some punk who weighed more than Danny three times over in pure muscle mass.

"What are we talking about?" he asked while carrying the sodas he had bought for the group.

"Mark is bored again" I answered while I sucked up as much vitamin D as possible.

"So race him" Danny suggested as he sat down.

"He'll lose. Again." Eric said while smiling.

"No I won't!" Mark tried to defend his honor as an athlete.

"Prove it" I simply said, with an intentionally arrogant tone.

As quick as his legs and gravity would allow him, Mark stood up. "Oh yea? Well we'll see about that Ice Queen!" He was terribly enthusiastic, thinking that he could win this time.

It wasn't because he knew that Ice Queen was my 'codename' with the Reds, but it was a nickname that had, more or less, stuck to me during the last couple of months.

Like Mark, I jumped to my feet. "Danny, pick a location for us."

Danny's omni-tool lit up on his arm and after a few seconds, he had a point for us to run to.

"One mile that way," Danny said and pointed towards a group of buildings up the stairs, "There is a McDonald's on the corner of an intersection. The first one, who gets there and back here, wins."

I smiled and looked at Mark. "Ready?"

He nodded and smiled back at me.

"Alright, go!" Danny said, and we sped off.

Mark immediately sprinted down the street, seeing that he couldn't get through the cluster of buildings since there was a tall fence that was blocking the entrance into an alleyway between the buildings. That strategy would require him to run via the streets and add half a mile extra to his route.

While the fence would be too tall for him, I could easily scale it, and so I did. I ran towards the alleyway and when I reached it, I ran up the wall and jumped to the top of the fence, grabbing it with one hand and launched my body to the other side.

I didn't give myself time to relax after the landing, but instead I kept speeding up to gain momentum.

I made a right turn, then a left and then a right again and then I entered a small playground for the children that lived in the buildings.

The grass was well kept and the playground was almost new. Looking forward, I saw that my exit from the playground was blocked by a series of one yard tall walls that separated some gardens, but that was hardly a problem.

As I ran towards the walls and jumped them by placing one hand on the wall and launching myself over, I felt like I did when I was running towards apartment 5-12 a couple of months earlier; I was once again on the edge of the world.

Like predicted, I reached the intersection after only 10 minutes, and Mark was nowhere in sight. I made it across the intersection to the McDonald's and took a quick snapshot of myself, in front of the sign, with my omni-tool.

When I crossed the intersection again by walking, my eye caught the sight of Mark about 500 yards down the street, turning a corner and sprinting at the same time. I threw him a quick smile, and then disappeared into the alleyway from which I came, and I was back at the Graffiti Wall in 10 minutes.

The first thing I noticed when I came back was that Rachel and Sabrina had rejoined the others on the steps and they were all looking at their work of art.

The picture showed one human solder in full armor and with an assault rifle, charging a Blood Pack krogan with an assault rifle in one hand, and a fully charged omni-blade in the other.

I had never seen a krogan myself, and from reputation I didn't much care for them, but I had seen plenty of pictures in school to know one when I see one.

The solders face was covered by a helmet with a black visor, but clear as day were the red armor stripe on his right arm and the small, but very distinct N7 emblem on the chest piece of his armor.

The new piece of art was truly fantastic, not only in detail but also in scale, as the two combatants was almost twice as tall as the artists themselves.

It was clearly inspired by Rachel's dad, who was in fact an Alliance marine. But he wasn't just a marine. Rachel had once showed me the N7 medal that her father had worn on his dress uniform, which meant that he was among the best human Special Forces operators in existence.

She also told me that he was reported KIA after a large Blood Pack raid on a group of cruisers and frigates that was transporting colonists to a new world. He and his unit were posthumously awarded with the Star of Terra because they stayed behind when the lifeboats launched, to ensure that everyone got off the cruisers.

Not long after that, Rachel's mother was killed in a hit and run accident.

The day she told me that story, was the first day that she had cried into my arms, so by now, she had probably cried into Sabrina's arms too.

It saddened me to think, that someone would've painted over that in a couple of weeks because they disliked the Alliance, so I took another screenshot with my omni-tool.

As we stood there and admired the excellent artwork, Mark got back. "You lost Mark" I simply said and continued looking at the newest addition to the Graffiti Wall.

My omni-tool was what brought me out of my near-trance-like state. "You have one new email in your inbox" it said through the ear-piece I had left in my ear.

I dug into my backpack for my datapad. I could read the mail on my omni-tool, but the holographic interface wasn't really suitable for reading on, for that I preferred the solid background of a datapad.

I opened my mailbox and read the new message:

From: BW_SharpShot1212

Sent: 12.23 a.m. (local time)

To: k_shepard

Subject: Retribution, BITCH!

You BITCH!

You killed my friend you little whore! MY FRIEND! Do you even have ANY FUCKING idea who I am?

Well, it doesn't fucking matter, cause I'm gonna kill ya for it! You hear me? I'm gonna kill you! I'm gonna kil you so much that you wish that I never found your little human ass!

And its not just you! I'll make your friends suffer too! And when I torture them, and they ask why, I'll say that it's because of YOU!

Be aware shepard, be FUCKING aware!

- R

I swallowed my saliva, but somehow, it wouldn't go down.

My blood, it sped up and raced to my head, or maybe it stopped running all together. I wasn't sure.


	6. Chapter 06 With Friends like These

Chapter #06

With Friends like These

11.03 p.m., November 23rd, 2169

10th Street Reds' Hideout, New York City.

"This used to be a funhouse, but now it's full of evil clowns. It's time to start the countdown. I'm gonna burn it down, down, down, I'm gonna burn it down."

The song came to an end and so did my singing. Some of the other Reds were listening, others were just watching the TV and some were playing foosball.

I pushed a button on the guitar, and the intricate mechanics made the guitar fold itself into a more compact size.

I looked around the dirty basement. There were about thirty of us down here, but since it was so big, we were nowhere near cramped down there.

As I found a pack of smokes in my pocket, I looked around the room. These guys were my 'family', of sorts. While my friends from school were loyal to me, I doubt that any of them would have my back in a shootout. But then again, my friends from school wouldn't steal from me, which was something that couldn't be said about the Reds. They all had their own qualities and their own weaknesses.

As I lit my smoke, I saw Timothy and Tina walk to me. The two twins bore a striking resemblance to each other. The most obvious difference was that Timothy's blonde hair was cut short while Tina's almost reached her waist.

"Yo, why are you here Shep?" Tim asked with a little anger laced on top of his voice.

"I am Red, aren't I?" I asked and lifted up my shirt to show my tattoo. I suddenly regretted having it put there, but that also had certain qualities; people wouldn't know I was one of the Reds by looking for a tat on my arm.

"Sure you are girl, he's just being an ass today" Tina said while giving me a hug. Tina and I used to be couriers together for the gang, but as we got older, we got different assignments, mainly because she couldn't keep up with me after I began freerunning.

"Why is that?" I asked while offering them a smoke.

"His girlfriend dumped his ass" Tina said while smiling and taking a smoke.

I reached into my pocket for my Zippo lighter again. "The tramp you met at Black Hole last month?"

"Two months ago" Tim said, defending his honor.

"She was a skank Timmy" I said.

"Mhmm, listen to her bro."

"Yea, like I need to take love advice from the Ice Queen herself." He scoffed at me.

Usually, it takes a lot to piss me off, but it had been a bad month, starting with the email from 'BW_SharpShot1212', whoever that son of a bitch was.

I took another drag of the smoke. "Well, you know what Timmy-boy? Go fuck yourself" I said and flicked the remainder of the cigarette at him.

Immediately after, Timmy's fist connected with my face and I flew back into the boxes I had been sitting on.

Before he could make another attack, I kicked him in the groin.

As he bended over in pain, I spat some blood onto the concrete floor, but when I looked up again, Timmy was on his feet again.

His right fist stormed towards me again, I dodged to my left. I heard the groan of pain as he connected, this time with the wall. I quickly threw in a few punches to his right flank, trying to break a rib.

Before I could react, Timmy's elbow was swinging towards my face, and when it hit, I hit the floor hard.

For a brief second, I noticed that the other Reds in the basement (including Tina) had gathered in a circle around us, chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

I was drawn back into the brawl with a jab of pain: while I had spent one second looking at the other people in the basement, Timmy had kicked me in my right side.

As I looked up, I saw that he was getting ready for another attack, but this time he was going to stomp on me, so I rolled to my left, and kicked him in the back of his knee.

He was disoriented as he fell to his knees, and I used the small window to get up and spit out some more blood.

Unfortunately, Timmy recovered faster than I did, and while I wasn't looking, he charged me, and before I knew it, I was pressed against a wall with his muscular forearm over my throat.

That was a prime example of why I preferred sniping or sneaking up on someone from behind rather than have a straight up fight. While my brain kept me on my feet for a little while, it was only a matter of time before the brawn got the upper hand.

I struggled for air as I was pressed up against the wall and I desperately tried to find the ground with my elevated feet.

I was sure that Timmy was going to kill me as my sight slowly blackened and my limbs went numb.

What saved me was a shotgun.

One single shot was fired into the roof, and the chanting stopped, so did Timmy who immediately stepped away, leaving me with a two foot fall. I landed on my knees and I choked blood up and spat it out on the floor.

Parts of my body felt numb, while others just ached as hell. Timmy had gotten some good punches into my face (twice), my ribs and my throat. I touched my nose slightly, and it felt broken. The same went for my ribs.

"What the FUCK is this?" someone yelled. I couldn't distinguish the voice yet. All I noticed was that someone hit Timmy and he stumbled without falling. Then two people lifted me up under my arms and dragged me away without me resisting. "What ya looking at? Get back to whatever the fuck you were doing before you lazy bastards!" the voice yelled again.

I was put down on a hard table and as I looked up, not only was my vision blurry, but someone was shining a fucking flashlight in my eyes.

"Hey! Shepard! Can you hear me?"

I coughed once. "Of course I can hear you idiot…" I said and tried to push whoever was holding the flashlight, away while instinctively shielding my right ribs from anymore blows.

"Attitude is fine boss, but two of her ribs are cracked and her nose is broken."

"Is it something medi-gel can heal?"

"Sure, the medi-gel will help with the ribs. They will heal faster and she can still move around."

"Good, slab some on then."

I felt someone lift up my shirt and I instantly gripped their arm. It was a man's arm, thick, but not strong.

It was around then that my vision returned. At first, I didn't understand why everything was white, but then I turned my head away from the lamp. Next to the kitchen table I was lying on, stood the Boss.

Really, his name was Damien Cross (apparently his parents had seen The Omen and had a sense of humor), but we all just called him the Boss. He was as much brawn as brain. He was wearing a black leather jacket as usual. He was the leader of the New York Reds. He was extremely devoted to the point where his tattoo wasn't on his arm, but on the shaven ebony skin of his head.

"What the hell were you thinking bitch? Picking a fight with Timothy?"

"He pissed me off…" I croaked, still feeling throbbing from when I was almost suffocated. I turned my eyes to the Doc, an old-school Red with training in field medicine. His gray beard and low voice seemed familiar now.

I shivered as Doc smeared the cold salve called medi-gel, on the points where my ribs were cracked.

"Yea? Well why are you so pissed off girl? You got no reason to be."

"I got one" I said as I felt the salve making a semi-hard shell where it was applied, and then entering through my skin and applying itself around the ribs. "Can you get someone to get my bag down in the basement?"

Cross waved at someone outside my sight. I had kept the email to myself because I wanted to make sure it was serious before I took it to someone else. Unfortunately, the only thing I was able to find out was that the email was sent from a random terminal on the space-station Omega. I hadn't been able to find out if 'R' was actually a member of the Blue Suns, but if he was, I had already made the connection.

"The datapad" I said when the Cross got his hands on my backpack.

"What am I looking for?"

"Open the mail program, ugh, and find a mail from November 1st" I said while I felt the medi-gel heating up as it worked its magic on my ribs.

He looked over the mail at least five times before he spoke. "Who's the 'friend'?"

"Back in September, I got a job from Andy. The target was a guy named Kenny Stings. He was with the Razors, and he was their main gun runner, and he got his guns from the Blue Suns."

Cross looked over it a few more times. "Shit… I assume that you waited with bringing this to me for a reason?"

I nodded slightly and tried to sit up on one elbow, but Doc quickly pushed me back on my back.

"I wanted to see if there was anything too it, Boss, but all I could find out, was that the mail was sent from Omega."

Cross turned around and paced through the small kitchen. "Okay, listen here: I am gonna forward this to myself and then see what I can find out. If the Blue Suns are coming after you, they'll have to deal with me first" he said with conviction and looked directly into my eyes. I saw no fear in his. 100 % loyal to the gang. I was a little ashamed when I realized that I probably wouldn't be as loyal to him as he would to me.

"Good to know Boss, but I don't think it's the Suns," I said. "It's too personal. If the organization wanted me dead, they would just send a guy to do it, not taunt me before they do it."

"Depends on how much Stings really meant to them" Cross said and looked into my eyes with a protective look on his face.


	7. Chapter 07 The Mick

Chapter #07

The Mick

10.11 p.m., March 17th, 2170

Outside the Black Hole Nightclub, New York City.

March was unusually cold this year, but that didn't stop people from enjoying St. Patrick's Day. It seemed like people were actually pouring more booze down their throats than usual, maybe just to give some heat to their bones.

It had been almost three months since Cross said he would take a look at the email, but so far, he hadn't found anything. On Christmas Eve, he told me that it was probably just some friend of Stings who wanted to scare me, but I was still concerned with how the sender of the ominous email knew that _I_ was the one who had killed Stings.

Either way, it seemed like finding out was becoming more and more of a longshot, so I let it go.

"There you are Shep!"

I was brought out of my thoughts and looked up at the entrance. There, in a skin-tight green dress, stood Tina. I took a last look at all the people in the huge line that would have to wait to get into the club. Instead of waiting, I walked up to Tina.

"Hey girl!" she said and hugged me. "Damn, you look fine tonight!" she said and giggled. I looked down at myself and admired my attire: high heels, skin-tight jeans and a green V-neck t-shirt and a black waistcoat with only one button buttoned. On top of it all I of course had a dark brown leather jacket to shield myself from the cold.

"Not as good as you, Tina" I said and we started to walk towards the entrance.

The doorman knew we were with the Reds, so he let us through with no fuss.

On the inside, you could really see that it was St. Patrick's Day since most of the Black Hole's color schemes were changed to the green spectrum, with a green bar, green drinks and green lights. Even the screens that were usually blue or purple and showed patterns that changed with the music were changed to be green.

The techno music was booming, and the club was almost full, at least the dance floors were full. The more open area we had entered from the entrance, had some couches and chairs for those who needed to relax for a while, and opposite the entrance was the bar.

We quickly made our way over there and ordered four shots, which all looked poisonous because of the venom green color.

"Happy Saint Patties Day!" Tina yelled through the booming beats of the music.

"Bottom's up!" I yelled back.

We both downed our first shot and then a second after jamming the glasses into the bar; we downed the second set of drinks.

The green stuff tasted sweet, but still with the bitter edge of alcohol. It reminded me of a much stronger version of apple cider.

Tina was moving to the beats while I ordered a glass of whiskey. "Wanna go dancing?" she asked.

I chuckled while I took a sip of the whiskey to wash the bittersweet taste of the shots away. "You know I can't dance."

"Nonsense! That is only a matter of how much alcohol you got in you!" she said while still moving around like she was just about to burst into dance.

"Well, I am nowhere near that drunk yet!" I said and realized my mistake right that moment.

"Barkeep! Four more shots of that green stuff!" Tina told the bartender who laughed and refilled our glasses with the venom-like substance.

On Tina's orders, I downed the two shots that were mine and thought I was done, right until she looked confused at me and the two remaining shots.

"Why are you stopping?"

I was dumbstruck as I looked down at the two glasses I thought was for her. "You can't be serious?"

"Drink up girl!" she said while smiling like she was having a grand time.

"Bitch" I said right before I let the two drinks slip down my throat. The bittersweet taste was so strong that I reached for my whiskey and drank a big gulp to wash the taste away.

Just as soon as I had emptied my glass, Tina gripped my arm and pulled me towards one of the elevated platforms that made up one of five different dance floors.

Like all the others, that one was very crowded, so once we were in the middle, there was nothing to do but follow the rhythm with all the other young well-dressed party people.

As the alcohol took its effects, I felt free and able to dance uninhibited in the midst of the crowd. That feeling lasted for at least an hour, but then I needed a break.

I caught a sight of Tina's green dress, and she was enjoying herself too much for me to want to pull her out, so while smiling, I left the platform and walked in a somewhat straight line towards the bar.

"Scotch on the rocks" I said to the bartender as I leaned in over the bar.

"You sure you can handle a drink like that?" I heard someone say.

I turned to my left and saw a guy in his early 20s, wearing a grey t-shirt with a black blazer and jeans, sitting on a white barstool. His hair was brown, his eyes were blue, and his face looked trustworthy but dangerous at the same time.

"My friend says I have the tolerance of marine on shore leave" I said as I received my drink. I raised it towards the stranger and took a sip.

He laughed, and then raised his glass too.

"What's your poison?" I asked.

"Rum and coke" he said, and it was first now that I noticed his Irish accent.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. "An Irishman drinking rum and coke? And on Saint Patties Day no less?"

"What's wrong with that?" he asked with a dramatic outburst.

"Oh, nothing. I guess." I held a small pause while looking down at the amber liquid in my glass. "It just doesn't seem very Irish. Besides, they make better drinks here than a simple rum and coke."

"Well, why don't you enlighten me, sweetheart?"

I lifted an eyebrow while walking over to the Irishman and sitting down on the stool next to him. "Hey, Chris, can you make my new friend here a screwdriver?" I asked the bartender who I knew made a killer screwdriver.

"Coming right up."

"Screwdriver?" the Irish asked.

"Orange juice and vodka" I said, faking disappointment in him for not knowing the ingredients for a screwdriver.

30 seconds later, the Irish was sitting with a glass with a yellow liquid in it. He took one sip, licked his lips, and then he took another sip. "Now, that's not half-bad sweetheart."

"All credit goes to Chris; the guy is a savant when it comes to mixing drinks."

He raised his glass for me to toast. Our glasses clinked and I quickly said "Bottom's up!"

We both finished our drinks and slammed the glasses into the table.

"So why scotch and soda?" he asked.

I swirled the ice cubes around a little before answering. "I like scotch" I ended up saying.

"Most American girls I've met prefer something with fruit."

"You see that girl over there?" I asked and pointed over at a bleach blonde girl standing next to a heavily muscled guy in a tight black t-shirt.

The Irish nodded.

"She has ordered piña coladas all night, only because she can't handle a whiskey." I looked up at the Irish. "She is scared of what's gonna happen if she gets really drunk and loses control."

He laughed again, showing his teeth. "I take it you're not scared?"

I shook my head. "Me? Fuck no! I embrace that shit!" I said and laughed with him.

He looked up at the bartender. "Chris is it? Bring this young lady another scotch on the rocks."

"Well, thank you Mr…?"

"Duffy. But my friends call me Shane" he said and extended his hand.

"Well, Shane, I'm Kate" I said and shook it.


	8. Chapter 08 A New Acquaintance

Chapter #08

A New Acquaintance

2.34 p.m., March 18th, 2170

Shane Duffy's Apartment, New York City.

It was a peaceful morning for once. No alarm clock, no roommate who forgot that we slept in a bunk bed and any movement she did could be felt on my end, and no teacher who poked me and told me that I had fallen asleep in the middle of class.

I looked up at the open sky and watched the clouds silently gliding past the skylight.

Skylight?

I looked around and saw that I wasn't in a familiar place; I was in a penthouse that probably was bigger than a small house.

I was covered in white sheets and my clothes were spread out across the floor next to the bed, and then the previous night returned to me; the drinking, the flirting, the dancing and at last, the fucking.

That last part made me remember that I probably wasn't along in the bed. I looked to my right, and saw Shane lying on his stomach, face down into the pillow. Just from looking at his back, I could see that the guy had more tattoos than someone who had done time in a Mexican prison.

I smiled at the thought of what we had done in the bed, and on the couch in his living room, and for a brief moment, in one of the toilettes at Black Hole. Then the smile disappeared, not because I was ashamed, but rather because I was annoyed.

The annoyance wasn't because of what we had done in his apartment, but because of what we had done at Black Hole's toilettes. But after another thought, I didn't care since he was just a one-night-stand.

I looked at the holographic clock on the nightstand and sighed at what I saw: it was 2.37 in the afternoon.

Without making a noise, I crawled out of the bed and put my clothes from last night on. Once that was done, I could smell the club on me; the booze, the smokes and the sweat.

As I was about to sneak out of the bedroom and into the living room, I saw Shane's jeans on the floor.

My eyes peered at Shane's sleeping figure, just to check that he was still unconscious, so I picked up his jeans and took his wallet. I looked at the photo ID, and according to it, he was Shane Duffy. I went through the other small compartments of the wallet, and found a credit chit used for physical transactions. I looked at it, and luckily for me, it still had 326 credits on it.

I took the credit chit, and made sure that Shane was still sleeping. Then I snuck through the giant penthouse with the white walls where art was hanging.

I went into the hallway and walked towards the elevator.

As the elevator drove down, I turned away from the door and looked out over the city. From what I could see, I was somewhere on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

The looks I got from the people on my way out made it clear that they knew I was on a walk of shame, but I didn't care, after all I had things that needed to be done that day.

The cold air was refreshing on my face as I walked out into the streets.

I steered towards the nearest subway entrance and took the subway to Brooklyn where Hansen & Co. Storage was located.

It was Hansen senior that was on duty today, and I just went straight to the elevator and rode it to the fourth floor. There, I quickly went into my storage unit.

I looked around; I had added a few more items apart from just my Viper. There was also fresh clothes, a work bench with different tools and components and if I couldn't go home to Little Grace, there was a bed here.

After changing to some more practical clothes and having picked up the Viper, I went back to the subway and took a train to Harlem where the Hideout was.

On the way, I got a cup of coffee from a nearby café. It had been like a daze since I had left Shane's penthouse. Maybe the black gold would cure that.

As I walked into the basement, everything looked the same: people playing video games, watching TV, playing foosball and just generally hanging out because they had nothing else to do. Several of them were hung over, that much was clear.

I looked over at the spot where I had gotten the snot beaten out of me back in November. No one had bothered with cleaning up my blood, probably because they didn't care. It had taken on a darker color than I spat it out.

"Yo?" I asked.

"What is it Shep?" one of the guys in front of the TV asked.

"Any of you seen Cross somewhere? He said he wanted to speak with me."

"Try the living room."

The living room was bigger than the basement, but the only people that usually inhabited it, was a lookout who would warn everyone downstairs of the blues were coming. Now, however, there were three people: the lookout, Cross and… Shane Duffy.

Dumbstruck, I was only able to stand there and wonder why Duffy was there.

"Finally, there you are Shepard" Cross said. He was smiling, which was unlike him.

"Kate?" Duffy asked as he turned around.

"Shepard" I corrected him, still confused.

"You two know each other?" Cross asked while staring from me, to Duffy, back to me and then to Duffy again.

"Yes."

"No." We both answered at the same time.

"We have an _intimate_ knowledge of each other" Duffy said and smirked. I balled up my fist and swiftly punched him in the stomach. Though he didn't move much, I smiled when hearing him cover his groans and a couple of coughs.

"Who is he, Boss?" I asked to draw his attention away.

"Shepard, meet Shane Duffy. He's part of the Reds in Dublin."

"He's a Red?"

Duffy answered that question by pulling up his sleeve and revealing the insignia on his upper arm, almost hidden between other tattoos.

"Born and raised as one, sweetheart." His thick Irish accent was clearer now that I wasn't drunk, but I still answered myself the question of why I hadn't noticed his tattoo.

"He's your new partner Shepard" Cross blatantly stated, as if it didn't mean anything to him.

"What?" I asked in disbelief and walked a few paces forward to face Cross. "I work best alone."

"Yea? Why is that?"

"Yea, why is that sweetheart?"

"Stop calling me that" I told Duffy and turned back to Cross. "I am faster; he won't be able to keep up." I tried to explain it rationally even though this was making my blood boil.

"Remember last week? You almost got capped because you didn't have someone to watch yo back" Cross said.

During that job, I had gone into a building to get to the roof, what I hadn't noticed was that three Razors had followed me. The only reason that I wasn't a corpse in a morgue, was that the first one of them to pull a gun missed, and that gave me enough time to spin around and pop all three of them with my Paladin.

"But-" I said, but was cut off.

"I don't wanna hear it Shepard!" Cross said and held his flat hand up to stop me. "If he slows you down, either you slow down with him, or you make him go faster."

Duffy was just standing there with a crooked smile and an arrogant look in his eyes. He had seemed so charming the night before, but now he just seemed like an ass.

I sighed. "No Boss." I realized that if I was to get rid of Duffy, a head-on approach wouldn't do the trick.

"I actually have a question" Duffy said. Cross nodded at him and he continued. "Where can I get a gun?"

"If you go down into the basement, there should be some pistols in the weapons cabinet" Cross said, still with a voice that signaled indifference.

"What kind?"

"Predators" I said.

"And it's free?"

"You're a Red" Cross said. "That means your family."

Duffy smiled and nodded, and then he went down into the basement to get his weapon.

"Why is he here Boss? I know that you didn't pull him all the way from Ireland, just so I can have someone to follow me around."

Cross disregarded the condescending part of the question and answered. "Things were starting to heat up for him in Dublin, apparently he pissed off someone from a different gang, and they sent him to us so things could cool down for him on the other side of the pond."

I shook my head. Anyone who had enemies like that wouldn't fit in with my MO since I liked staying out of the spotlight. Then I suddenly remembered that I was in a similar situation.

At that moment, Duffy reentered the room from the basement, while checking out his new pistol.

"So where are we going today?" he asked after holstering it.

"Shepard can tell you" Cross simply stated, again with indifference. "You ready?" he asked, this time directed at me.

"If asshole here" I said and pointed at Duffy with my thumb, "Is ready, then yea."

"Then get going. I want this done today Shepard, you feel me?"

"Yea, yea I feel ya Boss" I said and fist bumped Cross.

While Duffy was still looking at Cross, I walked past him towards the front door. "Come on Mick, we got a job to do."


End file.
